Living my Enemy's Life
Chapter Two
Written by: Chibi Sephy
On: July fourth and fifth, 2004
Summary: Everyone in Hogwarts knows of Ron Weasley's rivalry with Draco
Malfoy. But what if they had to live each other's lives after a deal
between Lucius and Voldemort?
"You'll do well not to get hexed this time." Said a pale, blonde-headed woman, whom was standing in front of her also blonde teenaged son. "It was truly an embarrassment to get you all fixed up the last time you got off the train."
"I won't get hexed again, Mother," replied her son absentmindedly, watching the Muggles whom were staring at them in the train station they were in—King's Cross, standing between the space between platform nine and ten. Both were dressed in their robes, which seemed quite out of place with the Muggle's clothing. Also, the boy's eagle owl was held within its cage on his cart, which also brought blank stares. Everything else he owned, however, seemed normal enough from the outside. His belongings were currently being kept within his suitcase, which was locked by a spell.
"Good," Narcissa, his mother, responded, in the same tone of voice her son had used moments before. "I suppose it should be time for you to leave now."
"Obviously," Draco stated in a bored manner, now leaning upon his cart. "Good-bye, Mother. I shall see you when Christmas break comes."
"Good-bye, my son," Narcissa said back, and then walked a bit closer to him and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Then, she wordlessly walked out of view from the Muggles, and automatically Apparated away from the station. Draco assumed she would have gone back home, to the manor. Where, apart from a few house elfs, she would be alone. His father had been gone all summer, having been thrown into Azkaban because of that nauseating Potter and his little minions.
Draco stayed in the spot where he was for a moment, before finally realizing that a few fellow wizards and witches behind him were calmly waiting for him to go through the barrier towards the train. He hesitantly pulled himself up somewhat, and glanced around, to see if any non-magic people were watching him. Fortunately, none of them were. He then pushed his cart forward, and waltzed coolly through the barrier.
Once the train employees had taken his baggage, Draco immediately boarded the train, and went towards the Prefect compartment; which were much larger than the ones the normal students used.
All of the prefects of his year were already there, as well as some fifth years and seventh years. He hardly knew any of the younger or older ones, however. Nor did he really care to know them, at that matter. The sixth years sat on a designated bench, as did the other years. Fifth years sat on the right, sixth to the left, and seventh years went straightforward.
Every one of them was sitting next to the person whom was from their house and year. Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil, the Ravenclaw prefects, were sitting on the end of the abnormally long train bench, nearest the door to the left side. Beside Goldstein, was Hannah Abbot, whom was chatting to the male prefect of her house and year, Ernie Macmillan. They belonged to Hufflepuff.
The next pair of people caused Draco's lips to curl in extreme agitation. For they were both part of the 'Golden Trio' of Gryffindor. Sitting next to Macmillan, was the bushy-haired Hermione Granger, and beside her was the tall, lanky, redheaded figure of Ronald Weasley. Neither of them seemed to have noticed Draco's entry, being as Granger was showing Weasley something of hers—a normal Muggle book, by the looks of it.
Draco continued to watch them both, his grey eyes narrow. He then turned away from them, and walked forward, coming to a stop in front of Pansy Parkinson, fellow fifth year Slytherin Prefect, and his girlfriend. She had been forced to sit beside Weasley, and it was obvious that she wished the seating arrangements had been different.
"Hello, Pansy," said Draco; in the smoothest voice he could muster. Pansy jumped aback—she had not expected to hear his voice. She had her wand held high in her left hand, and had been aiming it at the book Granger was holding. Apparently, she was planning to hex it; and then Draco had interrupted her.
"Oh... It's you... Hello, Draco." She answered, lowering her wand and placing it on her lap. She scooted over a bit, bumping into Weasley, forcing him to move over, since she wanted her boyfriend to sit next to her.
"Hey!" Weasley shouted, turning to stare at Pansy in the eye. "Watch where you're sitting!"
Pansy smirked, and just for spite, pushed him over a bit more.
"Well, if you weren't so big, I wouldn't have to move you over, now would I?" She retorted, and then looked back over at Draco, ignoring the irritated expression on Weasley's face.
Draco couldn't help but smile at his frustration, but still didn't say anything to him. Knowing the both of them, they would mention something about his father being in Azkaban—which was still a touchy subject to him, as it was to his mother as well.
Pansy brought his attention back over to her, patting the now larger space to the left side of her.
"There you go," She said matter-of-factly, moving her hand back so he could sit. Draco obliged, and sat down, leaning back as far as he could, on the soft cushioning the seat gave him.
Then, a few minutes later, the train began to shake, indicating that it was on. After this, it hesitantly began to move forward, and eventually began to gain speed. Soon enough, they were out of the train station, and were out into the countryside.
Draco and Pansy sat in silence for a long while, both waiting for one of the Hogwarts employees to come and tell them the normal announcements.
Finally, one came. The door to the compartment was slid open, and instantly everyone twisted around in their seats, eager to leave the tight area.
It was Professor McGonagall, clothed in her typical emerald robes. Her face was as constricted as ever, her mouth thin and humorless.
"Prefects," She called out, hoping to catch the group's attention, though it was a bit unnecessary.
Once she noticed—or rather made sure that none of them had sheens in their eyes—she continued.
"As all of you now know," She began, "You-Know-Who, and his followers, have returned. Though many of them have been apprehended,"
As soon as she mentioned this, most of the prefects turned in Draco's direction, giving him accusing glares. He simply ignored them, head held high.
"He still has a large union which threatens our school," Professor McGonagall stated, raising her voice a notch so to make them aware of her presence once more. "And I hope that all of you Prefects—"She paused for a moment, and let her gaze linger over every single one of them. "Plus the newly appointed Head Boy and Girl, will handle your House respectfully during times of possible unsettlement."
She then left the compartment without saying another word, and left the sliding door open. The entire group took this as a signal to leave; and then began to stand up and straighten all of their stiff joints, quickly followed by a crowding at the door.
A few people stayed in their seats so not to get stuck; including Draco, Pansy, Weasley, and Granger.
Once everyone else left, the two members of the 'Gryffindor' trio got up and exited, apparently planning to go to the same student compartment together.
Pansy, however, fixed her eyes upon Draco and fluttered her tiny eyelashes. He didn't acknowledge this at all; and waited for her to speak instead.
"I'll see you later, in the common room," She finally told him, after sighing heavily from his lack of interest from before.
Draco nodded in response, and remained where he was as she finally gathered her belongings and left.
At first, he seriously considered staying by himself in the Prefect compartment. However, he soon decided that maybe he should go look for Vincent and Gregory—for he knew that once they got to Hogwarts they would have no idea about where to go, as usual.
As Draco started to depart, he suddenly realized that it was raining, going from the sounds that were coming from the roof—and it wasn't just a normal drizzle, but an actual downpour. He vaguely appreciated that he was inside and dry; but didn't think much of it. Since when did Malfoys such as himself ever truly value something? It just wasn't done, for even one of the old family sayings was 'Don't dwell on the past—Just concentrate on the future and gain more'.
And that was exactly what Draco's life plan included.
The rest of the train ride was rather uneventful. He found Gregory and Vincent rather easily, since their bulging figures were spotted without a problem through the tiny compartment windows. Luckily, it was only the two of them, so Draco had plenty of time to himself so he could think. (The two rarely ever actually spoke to him anyway—they were exactly like lugging around two bodyguards that never spoke.)
Through the rest of the trip, all Gregory and Vincent did was either arm wrestle, or eat the sweets they had bought from the witch with the cart. It was all quite dull to Draco; but luckily, he was used to it.
And it wasn't as if he had anything to brag about doing during the long, monotonous ride. For all he did was stare out the window, at the pouring rain, and think about his life, and his father's in Azkaban.
A few minutes later, his eyes began to droop, and shortly after that, closed completely.
"Oh, Dracula, wake up! The train's stopped!" said a feminine voice, which Draco didn't recognize at first.
"Huh?" He said sleepily, opening his eyes. He quickly realized what had happened, and blushed lightly at the thought. He had fallen asleep against the windowpane.
He turned towards the speaker, but then realized she had left. Oh well. It didn't matter, for he knew who it was anyway. Pansy was the only one who would ever call him Dracula.
The next thought that came to his mind was the possibility that the 'horseless' carriages would leave without him. He didn't see a single person walking past his compartment to get off board. So, the next thing he did was to hurry to the carriages, for he was currently both broomless and wandless, and it would take a long while to get to the castle by walking, or even running.
Draco almost let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the carriages were still where they were supposed to be. However, only one carriage door was still open, so he didn't have much of a choice. One last person was climbing into it, as Draco jogged towards it, while straightening his robes of any slight wrinkle.
As he walked up the small steps to get into the carriage, he noticed there was only one other person within it—and that had been the one he had seen climbing into it moments before.
"Hullo, Longbottom," He said with a small trace of sarcasm, as he sat down upon the opposite end of the bench as the other passenger, whom was in Draco's year, but in Gryffindor. His full name was Neville Longbottom, but hardly anyone outside his own house could remember it.
Draco didn't bother to listen to the other's meek reply, and instead busied himself with fixing his somewhat matted blonde hair. After he successfully made it seem a bit better than it was, he leaned back, and sighed heavily, wanting to get to the castle as possible. He was practically starving. He now wished he had accepted a Chocolate Frog Vincent had offered him.
The journey to Hogwarts from the train drop-off seemed to last longer than usual, though in reality it lasted about the same amount of time. When it was time to leave the carriage and go to the Great Hall, Draco couldn't have been more content.
Nearly the whole school was seated when Draco calmly waltzed into the Great Hall. The new first years were already standing before the Sorting Hat, some of them looking curiously at it, while the rest simply had expressions of great boredom upon their young faces.
Draco strode over to the Slytherin table, and sat between Millicent Bulstrode and Blaise Zabini, on the right side of the table.
As the Sorting Hat started to sing its annual song, Draco turned in its direction, though he wasn't really listening to it whatsoever.
Suddenly, he felt someone tapping on his left shoulder. He glanced over at the person who was doing it.
"Stop the consistent tapping, Blaise," He hissed under his breath, sounding annoyed. However, Blaise didn't say a word, and was holding a copy of The Evening Prophet in front of his face.
Draco snatched it from his fingers, and scanned the main headline, and a small smile came across his face as he read it. The main subject read, 'Well-Known Death Eater Escapes Azkaban—No Trace of How, Why, or Where'.
And the person whom had escaped was indeed his father, Lucius Malfoy.
Draco chuckled lightly, feeling a great burst of pride. How could he have ever doubted his father? He wondered whether he should write a letter to his mother about it, and see if his father had made contact with her yet.
With a gigantic smirk on his face, he handed the paper back to Blaise, and placed his attention back to the sorting. Now, every time a new student was sorted into Slytherin, he clapped harder than anyone else in his whole house—and with good reason.
When the sorting was completed, Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, stood up to do his routine announcements.
"Good evening, students of all Houses," He stated, sounding incredibly weary for reasons Draco didn't know. "First of all, I would like to welcome the first years to their new school, and I sincerely hope they enjoy their time here.
"The next thing I would like to mention is the fact that we have a new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher." He paused as some of the older students burst into laughter, and even he began to smile a bit. "Yes, yes, it has become quite the usual proclamation... However, some of you older students may know her already. May I introduce Professor Grubbly-Plank!"
Several students from all the houses let out a yell of approval. In particular the girls, since they remembered the Care of Magical Creatures classes the best, and they definitely approved.
"And now I must declare the start of the feast! I sincerely hope you savor it as much as I do." He said with amazing finality, going back to sitting upon his enormous chair.
Many of the Slytherins were surprised that he hadn't mentioned Voldemort. However, this thought soon vanished from their minds, as food and drinks instantly appeared upon the table, and their ravenous stomachs refused to wait any longer. Hot, steaming food slowly climbed upon each student's plate, and then eaten with astounding agility. Drinks disappeared from goblets in a matter of seconds.
Draco was chewing on a piece of baked chicken, when a wild breakout of laughter emerged from the Gryffindor table. He glanced up to see what they all found funny—and automatically snickered. For it was easy to see what they had found amusing—Weasley had jumped up off the bench, and was running frantically towards the Great Hall doors, holding his mouth, looking as if he were about to vomit. Evidently, he was hoping to reach a bathroom.
As he continued to chuckle, he reached for his golden goblet, to take a sip of his pumpkin juice. If he had bothered to look at it; he would have realized it was a bit redder that usual. Unfortunately, he didn't bother to.
When the liquid first hit his lips, he knew something was wrong with it. However, it was too late to change anything, and he had taken nearly three large gulps of it before he could even spit it out.
As coolly and as to not attract stares, he pushed himself off the bench of the Slytherin table, and headed out of the doors, arms by his side, relieved he had been near it
. He knew he looked rather stiff, but he was struggling to keep his mouth closed—for if he had let it open, he knew he would have made some sort of noise. His skin felt as if it was melting, and apart from that, just felt plain awkward.
When he was out of sight from the majority of the people in Great Hall, he took off running as fast possibly could. He knew he was going to be sick—and even if he wasn't going to be, he needed a mirror just the same.
Draco ran into the nearest bathroom, and ran straight towards the sink, grasping the sides of the sink with both hands. As if on clockwork, a wave of nausea entered his senses, and a wave of vomit exited his mouth.
When that was done, he suddenly felt much better—sickened at the thought that it had to be in a sink, but he knew house elfs would clean it up later.
He straightened himself, and closed his eyes. The nausea was gone, but the awkwardness was still there. Then a voice suddenly broke into his thoughts.
"You. It was you, wasn't it?"
Draco opened his eyes again, and looked in the direction that the voice had come from.
And his eyes met himself, though he certainly wasn't looking into a mirror. This 'alternate' version of himself was wearing Gryffindor robes as well—something he wouldn't be caught dead doing.
"What are you talking about?" He said, his confusion apparent in his tone.
But wait... That voice... It wasn't his!
Yet, he knew it just the same.
Fearfully, he turned towards the mirror that hung above the sink he had been standing beside moments before.
And Weasley's face, complete with flaming red hair and freckles, greeted him.
End Chapter Two